


Touch of Blue

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst and Humor, First Time, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season five. Two days after they save Earth, John has a little problem. The Iratus retrovirus is back and now he and Rodney have to deal with the consequences.  A bugJohn story about romance, mating, and porn. Not necessarily in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch of Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Selenic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenic/gifts).



> Beta:work and cheerleading by mezzo_cammin with additional credit to mischief for her helpful suggestions.

~*~

Rodney was not panicking. Absolutely not. Hot face and short, ragged breathing aside, he wasn't that uncomfortable being backed into the wall. He clutched his laptop firmly to his chest. It couldn't be panic because it was John who had him backed against said wall. His _friend._ Who would never hurt him.

"Ow," Rodney said, "Hello, irresistible force, immovable object? Hardly an intelligent use of your time, Colonel." He poked at John with the edge of his laptop. "More air would be good. Unless you're trying to squish me. I mean, of course you're not. That would be ridiculous."

"Very ridiculous," John answered, so close to him that his breath tickled his ear. He nuzzled at Rodney's shoulder, teeth worrying at the smooth muscle beneath. In a sudden and smoothly serpentine motion, he released Rodney and stepped back. "I thought we could spend some time together. You want to spend time with me, don't you, McKay?"

Rodney nodded slowly. "I do. Of course I do. You just have me a little – the smallest – most minuscule particle imaginable – concerned." He gently pushed against John's chest. "Don't take my suggestion in the wrong way, Sheppard, but you need to take a nice trip to the infirmary. I think Carson will want to see you. Ah, you might not have noticed, but your eyes are yellow."

John blinked at him. A second nictitating membrane flickered over his slit pupils. "You don't say. Well, I should probably do something about that, then."

Just as it seemed John meant to turn away and leave, he moved forward – too swiftly for Rodney to react. Suddenly pressed against him for the second time, he could feel the solid weight of John's erection pressed against his thigh. Instinctively, Rodney tilted his head and found himself rewarded by a long, lazy lick of John's tongue along the length of his neck. He shivered in pleasure all the way down to his toes. Oh. He made himself let go and patted John on the chest. "Infirmary, Colonel."

"Right. Wait? You're coming?" John asked, looking pleased when Rodney fell into step beside him.

"Yes. In case you haven't noticed, your teeth are sharp. You bit right through my shirt. I'm bleeding." Rodney poked at his shoulder. "Hmm, I thought it would hurt more."

John ducked his head, the motion revealing a smattering of pale, blue scales along one side of his neck. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Rodney wanted to reach out and touch that line of blue. He wanted to follow the trail of it where it disappeared under John's shirt and see just how far it went. Maybe taste it and compare it to the rest of John's skin. He sighed wistfully and kept walking. The only thing new about that desire was the change in color.

He stopped in his tracks just outside the infirmary door and snapped his fingers in John's face. "Carson's retrovirus! That's why this is so familiar. God, I should have seen it sooner. But how? We're on Earth; you couldn't possibly have been exposed. Oh my god, did you have sex with Todd?"

"Jesus, Rodney. I did not have sex with Todd." With an impatient yank, he pulled Rodney into the infirmary and pushed him up against a bed.

John's grip felt like iron on his arm. For a moment, Rodney thought he was going to shove him down onto the mattress and climb on top of him. To his disappointment, John kept himself firmly under control. Though, when he released Rodney's arm, he winced as if it pained him to let go.

"I don't know, McKay. This feels different. Let Carson figure it out," John said.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Jennifer asked, smiling over at them from her workstation. "Just kidding. Oh my, you are looking more colorful than usual, Colonel. I can see why you'd want to see Dr. Beckett, but I assure you, I've studied his retrovirus research extensively. His work on gene therapy is quite remarkable in his field. It's fascinating, really."

She walked over to John as she spoke, staying carefully at arm's length. "I read all of the reports regarding your past history with the retrovirus, Colonel, including Elizabeth's and Major Lorne's. It might be best if you planned on staying right here for a while."

To Rodney's relief, Carson walked into the room just in time for him to hear Jennifer ask the nurse to bring restraints.

Carson bustled forward and, to Rodney's relief, planted himself between Jennifer and John. "There, there now, let's see what we're dealing with, Jennifer, before we jump to conclusions all willy-nilly." He stared at John's eyes and frowned. "We're going to need to run a full workup on the Colonel."

"Rodney, too, Doc. I bit him."

"Oh for – of course you did," Carson said, in pained dismay. "It can never be just one of you causing trouble, can it?"

John shrugged.

Rodney tensed as Jennifer cautiously reached out to pat his hand.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll both be fine," she said, but it didn't sound terribly convincing.

His hand felt greasy where she'd touched it and as soon as her head was turned, Rodney wiped his hand on his pants. "Carson, whatever's wrong with us, Sheppard and I have the best chance figuring out how he was exposed and we can't do it from here."

"You have an idea then, Rodney?" Carson asked. "It would certainly help to have a sample of whatever he ran into. If it's not the retrovirus reactivating but something else – something any of us might have been exposed to – we need to know."

Jennifer nodded her agreement but Rodney couldn't help notice a tiny frown between her brows as she sniffed at her fingertips. When she turned to the sink to scrub her hands, Rodney wished he could do the same with his.

"If Carson says you and John can leave," she said over her shoulder, "I won't stop you. Just be sure to check in with us every couple of hours." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Does anyone else smell that?"

"What's her problem, Doc?" John asked. "She acts like we stink."

"Perhaps she's just particularly sensitive to the changes in your body chemistry." Carson nodded in Jennifer's direction, where she sat with a tissue over her nose while trying to type with one hand. "Particularly yours, Rodney."

"Very funny, Carson. Um, you don't really think I smell bad, do you?" Rodney asked.

"Not at all, not that I can tell. But then, we haven't been as physically close. Possibly there's some component…." He stopped to make a notation on his clipboard.

"But we haven't," Rodney protested. "Not as close as you're implying. We're taking things slow."

"That slow?" Carson asked, sounding surprised.

"More like a dead stop. We haven't actually dated since we arrived on Earth. It's ah, been pointed out to me that it's possible I'm a little gun-shy with relationships, especially after Katie Brown. Jennifer deserves someone who can make a commitment and, honestly, that's not a road I'm ready to travel down right now." Not with her, his brain supplied.

"Really?" Carson's said, eyebrows raised. He looked over at Jennifer with big, doe eyes and a soft, sappy-looking smile played across his lips.

"Oh my god," Rodney groaned, "You like her."

"I didn't say anything of the sort," Carson protested, with a look of panic.

"It's written all over your face. Relax. It's all right." He waved a hand in Jennifer's direction. "To be honest, it hasn't been working out for us for some time and we both know it." As far as I'm concerned, go for it. You can't possibly make as much of a mess of it as I have." He grinned. "Of course, rather she'll say yes or not is up to her."

"You two would make a cute couple, Doc," John said. "Worth a shot."

"And thank you from the peanut gallery," Carson huffed, cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.

On the other side of the room, Jennifer made a strangled, choking sound. Clearly, she'd heard every word. Rodney threw a glance at John, wondering if he was going to comment on her reaction but he was preoccupied with pushing Carson's stethoscope out of the way and pulling his shirt back on.

Folding his arms across his chest, Carson turned all business. "We can discuss my love life, or lack thereof, later. Much later, Colonel – Rodney. For now, I suggest you two hurry and figure out what caused this while you're both quite lucid. Meanwhile, Jennifer and I will get to work and let you know as soon as we have your test results."

"Carson, you should have Ronon –" John began.

"I'll let Mr. Woolsey know the risk right away, Colonel." Carson flashed his best reassuring smile. "We have enough frozen eggs left from last time to recreate the treatment. On the other hand, we've none to waste so let's be certain of what we're dealing with. John, I promise you, we're going to get a handle on this before things get out of control."

~*~

"This is so out of control," Rodney muttered, tilting his head back to expose his throat.

They'd managed to walk down the hall all of twenty yards without touching, but the minute the transporter doors closed behind them, John pushed him up against the wall.

"Dr. Keller's crazy," John husked in his ear. "You smell fantastic."

"You…you, too."

It was the easiest thing in the world to roll his head back. He shivered under the assault of John's tongue. The hot, wet strip trailed from under his ear to his shoulder where John tugged at his shirt until he could get at bare skin. With a satisfied hum, he suckled on the bite mark left from earlier, seemingly content to spend the next hour there.

"I radioed Radek while you were talking to Carson." The words struggled out between soft moans as Rodney tried to rub off on John's thigh. "He's locking the city down so we can't leave."

"Good idea. Can't let whatever this is loose on Earth."

"I was thinking more on the lines of, we can't let us, like this, loose on Earth."

"Mm." John ran his sharp nails down the front of Rodney's shirt, tearing it open.

The transporter door opened onto an abandoned corridor. "Where are we?" Rodney managed to gasp out in between excited shivers.

John growled in response but he did lift his head and sniff the air. With a flick of his eyes, he grabbed Rodney by the hand and pulled him down the hallway.

"Okay, I assume you know where we're going." Rodney said, keeping close to John's heels. He didn't actually care where they were going as long as they were together. It troubled him that it didn't particularly trouble him. They were in Atlantis, he was with John, and John clearly had some sort of plan.

The lights came on ahead of them, then dimmed, making it easier for Rodney to see. Suddenly, John halted in front of a room and with a duck of his head, looked at him expectantly.

"No one knows this is here, do they?" Rodney asked as he stepped into the room. "Oh my."

The room was small, dimly lit, with a large canvas draped across the ceiling giving it a cave-like feel. Pillows and blankets were spread about, completely covering the floor. Scattered throughout were discarded crystals, pieces of useless but sparkly Ancient tech, power bars, water, and jars of scented oil.

He turned to John, and smiled. "You made a nest for us."

John's eyes crinkled in pleasure, the scales across one cheek glittered in the pale light and Rodney couldn't resist reaching out to touch. "You're so beautiful."

Apparently non-verbal now, John pulled Rodney over to the nest of furs and rugs piled up in the center of the room.

"Well, at least you didn't opt for a pile of mud, like – oof!" Rodney hadn't expected the push, nor that John would finish the job of tearing his shirt off in the process. He wriggled against the soft pile of fur cradling his bare back. Nice. If he could have purred, he would have, but he did manage a soft chirrup.

John looked at him and a question nudged against his brain. _Good?_

"Very good. How did you…?" Rodney tried thinking at John. Judging by the leer he got in return, John understood him just fine. He was certain of it when John knelt and stripped Rodney of his shoes and pants and began stroking him from sternum to groin.

Arching into it like a cat, wanton and eager with lust, he spread his thighs wide, blinked up at John and grunted. Somewhere along the line, Rodney knew his own verbal skills were disappearing, but it didn't matter.

What mattered was the way John's hands felt as they roamed over his belly. The rough scales soothed a deep need for touch. John was careful with his claw-sharp nails. Too careful, as far as Rodney was concerned. His hindbrain itched with the need to have John mark him. Claim him for his own.

He remained vaguely aware of Atlantis in the background; the vibrations of approval and protection he could feel through the floor. Oh. The ZPM, obviously. They were a set. The ones that powered the city were in frequency with the stolen one on the hive ship. The one responsible for the changes in John, and now him, connected them to the city in some way. He drew mental picture of Atlantis and the ZPMs with a question mark, and showed John.

 _Our Queen_ John sent back, his intent more verbal than Rodney had managed. He tapped his nails on Rodney's chest over his heart. _Nest mate._ and the image he sent along made it perfectly clear what John meant to do about that.

Rodney's cock throbbed, a heavy, pulsing weight of need and lust. Words and thoughts slipped away, replaced by hunger and fire in his blood. He pushed John's hands away, knelt up and tore John's clothes off with his teeth and nails. Panting, near frantic with frustration, he balled up the two pieces of John's shirt and flung them across the room.

It was pure relief when John touched his back, calming him down. Rodney sank down on his hands and knees feeling that finally everything was slotting into place.

Oil spilled over his back and down the crease of his ass, followed quickly by John's hand. Rodney shivered. It was one more sensation to add to the list. He pushed back onto John's fingers, wanting John to know he could take it rough, the retrovirus made sure of that. More importantly, he wanted it rough, deep, and right now. Pheromones he didn't know he could produce filled the room.

Ragged breathing filled his ears, as Rodney was lifted up only to be savagely pulled down onto John's cock. Oh, god – finally.

 _Mate –arousal– affection – deeper – filled – love – more – need._ Wrapped up in John, Rodney lost track of everything else. But those scents, those scents curled in the air around them and he would beg to keep it from coming to an end.

~*~

"Woolsey wants a full report on the Colonel, Doc," Lorne said. "Is he going to be a danger?"

"I can't say for certain. There are some inconsistencies to the test results.”

"Is it the retrovirus?" Lorne persisted.

"Well, I can tell you he's definitely infected Rodney."

"Great." Lorne scowled. "The good news is we've got the city on lockdown. The bad news is we can't locate them. Either Dr. McKay has managed to deactivate their subcutaneous transmitters or they've found a way to hide their signals. It's a big city, Doc. Please give me something. Is he going to turn full-on buggy or not?"

"Quite possibly, if we canna' get to him in time." Carson's brow furrowed in concern and he drew in a long breath. "Rodney, too. His exposure to the Wraith enzyme, thanks to Lt. Ford, may cause a rapid onset. Most certainly, his system is already compromised."

Not pleased with the news, Lorne put his hand to his radio and listened to reports coming in from the Marines. "I hate to tell you this, Doc, but so far we have no idea if we're closing in on his location or walking right past his hideout. There aren’t any Iratus bugs on Earth, so how did this happen?"

"Jennifer, ah, Dr. Keller, has a theory about that." With a nod, Carson encouraged Jennifer to speak up.

"We think it was the super-hive ship," she said. "Colonel Sheppard has an affinity with Ancient technology and we know the ship was in a state of super-growth enabled by a ZPM. You can't get more Ancient tech than that."

"Sorry, you're losing me, Dr. Keller," Lorne said, looking between Carson and Jennifer. "How does that reactivate the retrovirus?"

"We think perhaps the Colonel had an open wound, even a scratch…" Jennifer began.

Carson interrupted with a shake of his head. "It wouldn't have to be an open wound. The ship's atmosphere, laced with super-growth hormones would have been like walking through a giant petri dish of Iratus RNA. Just breathing it in would be enough to trigger the retrovirus."

A horrid thought crossed Lorne's mind. "What about the rest of the team?"

"Oh, they'd be completely unaffected," Jennifer assured him. "Only Colonel Sheppard had exposure to both an Iratus bite and the retrovirus in combination with Ancient technology. We can fix this," she added, turning to smile fondly at Carson. "Dr. Beckett has the serum almost ready. We just need you to find them."

"Right." Like they hadn't been trying. Lorne refrained from swearing. Barely. To complicate matters, no one could miss the way Jennifer and Carson were making goo-goo eyes at each other. Once Sheppard was back to normal, and he would be, Lorne would need to warn him about this development. He wasn't sure how Rodney would take his impending break-up with Dr. Keller and he didn't want to know, but he suspected John would know how to handle McKay and keep him from wigging out.

However, one problem at a time. Lorne buzzed Radek on the radio. "Tell me good news, Dr. Z."

After some creative swearing in Czech, Radek began talking about how the city itself seemed to be protecting Colonel Sheppard.

"Hold on," Lorne interrupted. "How do you figure Atlantis has anything to do with this?"

"I think, and it's just a theory, Major, but I believe that because the hive ship's unprecedented growth was fueled by a ZPM, somehow its energy signature also affected the Colonel's cells, stimulating not just the retrovirus but the ATA gene as well. A super ATA gene, if you will."

"So, you're saying that Atlantis thinks Sheppard and McKay are some kind of hybrid Ancients now? Peachy."

"Yes. As you say, Major, peachy. But, I have good news. Every attempted scan of the Northeast lower level failed to produce any results. Nada. No readings of any kind. Not even wave motion. It's as if that part of the city doesn't exist."

"Gotcha, Doc. Good work. Lorne out."

It was a big, red X-marks-the-spot as far as he was concerned. Clearly, Rodney, John or Atlantis itself, had slipped up. He and Ronon would have to hurry to get there before the marines.

He wasn't sure what kind of compromising situation they'd find, but it couldn't be good. When asked, Todd had gleefully mentioned the words 'mating instinct' and that made Lorne really regret he'd ever asked that wily old Wraith anything about hive ships or Iratus bugs.

"Doctors," Lorne said, already heading for the door, "if you'll excuse me, I have a Colonel to catch."

~*~

His senses skittered into awareness. John's arm tightened around his waist, and Rodney relaxed back into his embrace. Thinking beyond – rest – food – fuck, took effort. But there was something he, they, needed to remember. Rodney was certain he'd think of it, but John was playing with his ass now, spreading him open and pushing his cock halfway in and pulling back. Teasing him, the bastard.

Pheromones of lust and belonging swirled over his tongue. The taste of it weaved in with his other senses. Rodney moaned, satiated with the fullness of it. He'd just have to remember whatever it was he needed to remember, later.

John's wild and desperate keening was the last thing he heard before stunner fire washed over him.

~*~

Rodney's memories came trickling back. For long moments, he drifted along happily, remembering how good he'd felt. Warmth curled through his belly at the rightness of being with John, his hive mate, and the approving hum of Atlantis in the background.  
Slowly, the awareness of the consequences ahead of him sunk in. His eyes snapped open and the smile dropped off his face. Heart pounding, he sought out John, scanning the other beds in the infirmary.

With relief, he spied John two beds over, seemingly unhurt. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and measured, but Rodney recognized the tension in the line of his shoulders. John was conscious and trying to conceal it.

He sniffed the air. No scent of John's mood lingered. Damn it all to hell, he'd lost that ability, which meant likely Carson's cure had been successful. That was a good thing, right? Now, he just had to convince himself of that.

Before he could linger on that thought, a glass of water with a straw was thrust in his face.

"How are you feeling?" Jennifer asked.

A tiny frown worried her features and Rodney began to wonder if she was about to announce some abnormality he'd have to live with for the rest of his life.

"I'm fine. I am fine, right?"

"Yes, Rodney. The treatment was a complete success." Jennifer looked over at Carson and smiled. "Dr. Beckett really is quite brilliant. I doubt we would have succeeded without him."

"I hear a but," Rodney said.

Jennifer looked down at her hands. "It's just… I've been thinking, I mean this latest crisis has made me reevaluate…," her voice trailed off.

"You want to see if a relationship between you and Carson can work out." Rodney reached out to pet her hand and drew back, the greasy, oily feeling of her skin still too fresh in his mind. "You have my blessing for what it's worth. Just, be careful with him. He may be a clone of Carson but as far as I'm concerned he's still Carson, and he's my friend. You both are. "

"Thank you, Rodney. I know things didn't work out between us…"

"But it was good for a little while, Rodney agreed. "Let's just leave it at that."

Weary of the conversation, he glanced over at John. It hurt to see John lying there still pretending to be asleep. Suddenly, it seemed imperative to get out of the infirmary and let him have his privacy. At least as much of it as he could have without Rodney's presence making it even more awkward.

Decision made, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Who's got a radio?" He snapped his fingers. "I need to find out how close Radek came to blowing up my city while I was, ah, unavailable."

Reluctantly, Jennifer passed him her radio. Rodney didn't wait around to hear any protests about leaving. He was already tapping his radio on with one hand and pulling on his pants with the other when he turned and almost bumped noses with Teyla. "Teyla! You're here."

"Where else would I be, Rodney?" Smiling she steadied Rodney with a firm hand at his elbow. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?" she asked.

"Just woozy for a moment. I moved too quick. Forgot I don't have super bug strength anymore."

"I will make sure Rodney gets back to his quarters safely and does not overtax himself," Teyla assured Carson and Jennifer, in a voice that brooked no argument. "Ronon will stay here with John until he, too, is ready to be released."

"Uh," Rodney began, "I'm not sure that's a good…didn't he just stun John a few hours ago?"

"We are family, Rodney. Of course he will stay. Besides," she added, with a straight face, "I suspect John is rather used to being stunned with Ronon's gun by now."

~*~

The next few days he kept busy. Too busy to spend time with John, or accidentally cross his path, or stand outside his door at night worrying if he'd destroyed their friendship forever. Far too busy.

He should have insisted that John stay in the infirmary at the very beginning. He should have been smart enough to figure out a way to protect John. Teyla had done it. Infected by Ellia, John had backed Teyla against the wall and kissed her. Somehow, she'd quashed that spark of intimacy and he'd backed off and never bothered her again.

Rodney, on the other hand, had reveled in the attention and urged John on for more. They'd shared physical, mental and emotional intimacy as only nest mates could. He wasn't sure John, someone normally so private, could ever forgive him for that.

To make things worse, three days ago the IOA decided they needed to send a team of wet-behind-the-ears Earth scientists to poke and prod at his city. Just the presence of these intruders set his teeth on edge. Even the less idiotic ones, the ones that showed at least a modicum of respect to their surroundings, were damned annoying.

Briefly, Rodney wondered if his excursion into bugdom and the resulting hive-like link between him, John, and Atlantis make him more protective of his city than before. Probably. More possessive, in any case.

He reached out and pressed his palm against the wall. It was gone. All he felt under his hand was the quiet hum of well-running machinery. No acknowledgement. No undercurrent of happy satisfaction. No sense of being part of a whole. He could have wept. Rodney leaned his forehead against the wall and pushed out the thought, _On, c'mon, you beauty, turn on, share with me. Connect me with John._ All he received for his efforts was a warm forehead and a headache.

His shoulders slumped. He'd hoped, but he hadn't expected any different. He also wasn't about to plaster his naked body against the wall in the hope of better results with a greater skin-to-surface ratio, at least, not in a public hallway. Still, it gave him an idea. John surely missed this connection just as deeply, and Rodney wasn't above using it as an excuse to start talking to John again.

Why in two galaxies had he stopped talking to John in the first place? Oh yeah, the sex thing. The lots and lots of hot, animal sex that had left him quivering and begging for more.

Rodney licked his lips. His brain completely derailed from his current line of thought and he indulged in the memory of how good it felt to be on his knees, swallowing John's cock as deeply as he could manage. How his mouth hadn't gotten sore, no matter how hard or long he sucked. Well, fuck. Looked like he was going to have to deal with more than one kind of empty feeling if he wanted John's friendship back.

Fingertips ghosting over his mouth, Rodney sighed. He could do this. Awkward embarrassment wasn't new to him. For that matter, awkward sexual embarrassment wasn't new. The consequences had just never mattered so much before. Avoidance issues be damned. He could do this. He needed to do this. Decision made, he tapped his earpiece. "John?"

The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he realized he should have said _Colonel Sheppard._ Oh god – oh god, had he screwed it up already? His hand wavered over the radio as he wrestled with the temptation to disconnect.

"Rodney?"

"Sheppard." Taking a fortifying breath, Rodney asked, "Is there any crisis you can't get away from this afternoon?"

"Well, since Lorne, kindly offered to handle my leaning tower of paperwork, and we aren't under attack by the Replicators, Wraith, or Ascension wannabes, yeah, I can get away. What's up?"

"Meet me at the pier in an hour. The usual spot." The seconds lagged like hours as Rodney waited for John's response.

"Who's bringing the beer?" John asked.

"You are, of course," Rodney said, with a giddy rush of relief.

"Why do I even ask?" John answered, with a smile in his voice. "Later."

"Late – " he began, but John had already hung up. For John, that was refreshingly normal. Rodney walked to the lab with a lightness in his step that he'd vehemently deny if anyone saw it.

~*~

The last rays of the sunlight streaked across the sky in hues of orange and gold. Rodney couldn't remember if all Earth sunsets were this spectacular but he began to relax for the first time in days. Of course, it might have been the company.

He and John sat on the pier with their legs swinging over the edge in a kind of giddy, boyish delight. John sat at his side, their shoulders almost touching. Rodney could feel the warmth radiating off John and barely stopped himself from leaning into it.

"You ever think about how it's funny what you don't think about?" John mused, his thigh resting warm against Rodney's.

"You mean how we keep all these little boxes in our heads that we promise ourselves we'll never open? No. Not if I can help it." Daringly, he leaned over until his shoulder bumped against John's.

Long minutes passed in companionable silence.

"I think about some of those things," John said. "The ones we don't think about, I mean."

"Why am I not surprised?" Rodney teased.

"You don't?" John asked. "None of it?"

Rodney let his glance slide up until he could see the expression on John's face. He looked – hopeful. Heart pounding, Rodney admitted, "Well, maybe some of it, sometimes."

"Yeah?" John grinned. "Good. Because there are definitely some things I want you to think about."

"Aren't we getting off the point?"

"Which point was that, Rodney? The one we're not talking about?"

"Okay, that's it. I'm cutting you off. No more beer for you." Rodney lifted the beer from John's hand. "Uh, it's still full."

"I wasn't all that interested."

Disappointment curled in Rodney's chest.

"In drinking, McKay. I'm interested in other things, though."

"Other, not-talking-about-it things?"

John gently removed Rodney's earpiece, made sure it was off, and laid it down next to his own.

Rodney sat very still as John kissed him carefully on the cheek. Somehow, Rodney's hand developed a death grip on John's shirt, making it impossible for him to move away. John took one glance at it and smiled.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured softly, just before he kissed Rodney's mouth.

Long moments later, coming up for air, Rodney blurted, "Don't let anyone ever tell you you don't have a way with words. You're really good at this not talking thing."

"Good," John said, looking well mussed and sounding a little breathless himself. He pulled on Rodney's shirt, tugging him in close for another kiss. "We've got a lot more not to talk about."  


~*~

  
"Did I mention I had a theory about skin-to-surface ratio?" 

~*~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> *This is my part of our trade. In return I got this lovely necklace.  It's just as awesome as it looks in the pic.


End file.
